


The Universe Hates Toby (and Alcor by extension)

by Sirifall



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alcor - Freeform, Amnesia, Cultists, R!Bill, Toby's just really cute okay, Transcendence AU, demon dad dipper, gotta make sure, it's more cute than violent but, toby - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-25 19:11:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3821611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sirifall/pseuds/Sirifall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Transcendence AU: Toby gets in a car crash just a few weeks after graduation. Dipper is far from pleased, especially after the well-meaning little brat wakes up and doesn't remember him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're Not At Home

Summonings usually come sometime between nine at night and three in the morning – the serious, let's-sacrifice-this-kid-he-likes-kids-right kind of summons, not the 'hey I need a favor and I have a tub of rocky road here help me please' because those actually come in throughout the day. Plus there's the whole candy-trading ring that _he actually had to set up a pocket dimension for all this candy because holy shit this was a good idea_ and takes up at least a fraction of focus in his daily life.

Anyway, he notices Toby drop off into unconsciousness around midnight – not all that unusual, because despite his obedient/apologetic/ _too nice for your own good_ attitude, he usually has a hard time falling asleep at his bedtime even when Alcor's around. But summonings are really melding into each other tonight and he's sure the kid will be  _fine_ for one measly hour or two while he finishes up his business.

The last time Alcor showed up covered in blood, Toby went all pale and hid in the bathroom for thirty minutes. He made sure to clean up after that incident, so every time his suit gets ruined he takes some sweet time to go over the thing.

He can totally just snap his fingers and be done with it, but suit cleaning time is some of the only time he has to passive-aggressively mutter about Toby and how either  _the kids' going to snap one of these days I know it_ or  _my god there's no way I adopted the reincarnation of my worst enemy. No way_ .

So suit time adds on anytime between one second and ten minutes, depending on the mood Dipper's in.

Fifteen minutes after two in the morning, Dipper  _finally_ has time between summonings to check on the brat.

And Toby's not home.

“Oh no.”

_Pop_ !

Mindscape. The mindscape is good. He can find Toby in  _here_ and interrogate him about  _why he isn't in bed at home are you sneaking out again what happened_ ?

And -

And...

Toby, still sleeping so peacefully on a pristine white hospital bed, seems to have been waiting for him in the desk chair next to his own motionless body. He tries for a smile. It doesn't work –  _no why is he smiling like that no_ – but he doesn't seem to realize that the only times he does that is when he's in real trouble and  _oh god Toby's in the hospital_ . “Hey Alcor.”

“W̸̛ḩ̴á̴́t҉̵́ ̶̴̢th͘e̵ f̕͝ų̷͢c̨͟k̴͠͞ ͘ha̸pp̷͘ȩ̨n҉͏̛e̢̡d͠?” Toby flinched. “Wh́y͢ ͞t͏h̡ef̵͞҉͜͡ù̵ć̴͝k̕͟a̧re̢ yóu͜ i͠n ̷t͟h̛e ͡h̢ospital?”

“Well...” He seemed able to look literally any direction but Dippers. “I was driving home and... something happened...”

“D́id y͟oų ͢c͡r̨ash҉?”

“Sort of...?”

Dipper almost convulsed with irritation, but let out a sigh instead. “ Toby, i̴f́ so̶meo̸n̵ȩ c͜ra͝sh̕es͘ in̨t͞o ͘y̶ou͢, i҉t͝'̵s ̀not y̧o̶ur̕ fa͢u̴lt .”

The kid's face lowers, shoulders hunched, and  _ god damn it I knew he was blaming himself _ . “I should have been more careful... paid more attention...”

_ Mizar give me the strength to deal with this I can't do it on my own _ . “A drunk driver, then.” He looked back into time – Toby dropped of around midnight, he remembered – and watched as the event unfolded.

Toby was driving home – his irrational fear of 'being an inconvenience' to anybody actually made him a pretty decent driver – like he said.

Being a decent driver didn't hold any chances against three drunk kids and a pick-up truck built for the apocalypse itself.

And Toby was still blaming himself.

Dipper wanted to smash his head against a wall. Repeatedly.

He floats down in front of Toby, shoulders still hunched and still looking at everything but Dipper, and offers a hand. “Come on, squirt, Deal Time. Get up.”

“Huh?” He finally looks up, eyes (natural and artificial) switching between Dippers face, his hand, and then to his currently prone body. “Why?”

“Because I'm not letting you sit in a f͠u̕ckįng͏ h̢os̸pi̷ta͏l in a coma, that's why!”

“How long is it gonna last?”

Dipper – no, Alcor now, it's Deal Time – raises an eyebrow, but doesn't question it. “A week. Come on. Deal.  N҉o̢w͏ .” To his surprise, Toby shakes his head, eyes flicking back to his body. “Why not?”

“It's only a week. You don't need to do anything, I'll be fine.”

_ That's not the point!  _ He wants to scream. “You're in a  _ coma _ !”

“And I'll be out of it in a week. You don't need to waste your powers on me, I'll be fine!”

He seriously considers either bashing his head or Tobys into the nearest wall. No wait. That's counterproductive.  _ Why me _ ? “Don't be ridiculous, just shake my hand already. This amount of healing only costs  _ one hour _ 's worth of speaking ability, and you'll be good as new.”

“I don't need it.”

“ _What do you mean you don't need it_? If you haven't noticed, you are in a  c͟o̧m͝a̸!”

“ _Alcor_!” Oh my god he's whining. Or, the Toby equivalent of whining. Which is more like pleading but _he's whining_. “Just trust me! I won't go anywhere, you can still keep track of me here! It's not worth spending power on!”

The little daddy-Dipper in his head is screaming.  _ Don't think I don't know what you mean by that you little shit, you may not know how willing I would be if I had to destroy half this city's population to save you but  _ _ *I* do now stop being so stubborn and let me fix you! _

Regular-Dipper wants to punch daddy-Dipper but reluctantly agrees on those facts.

Regular-Dipper does not have the willpower that daddy-Dipper seems to have.

He groans. “ _ Fine _ , alright, I  _ won't _ make a deal with you then.” Toby smiles. “ _ But _ I'm going to be keeping tabs on you, and probably put you in a dreamscape or two so you don't float around being more of a bleeding heart than you already are.”

He nods. “That's fine.”

“And visits. In mindscape _and_ reality.”

“Alright.”

“Just,” He sighs, running his claws down his face in defeat. “Try to stay out of trouble, okay?”

Another smile. He's in a fucking coma and smiling like what Alcor is doing would bring world peace or something. Haha, no. “I'll try.”

“Good.” Oh god, another summons – and the promise of another sacrifice, just great. Can't they just calm down for one night while his son- _charge_ is in the fucking hospital? Is world domination _really_ that important? “Summon. Have fun in dreamland, I _will_ be back to check on you.”

“Okay. Good night.”

Fuck. He sighs again. “Good night Toby.”

_ Pop _ !

Alcor grins manically, skipping his usual introduction completely and stepping out of the circle, already in the mortal plane. “ Y̴̻̪͓͉̞͊̔̊͗ͤ̌̅ö̶̠̦̻͕́͐̽ů̳̬̓̒͌͊͘ ͂҉͕͇̼̣̫̠͡p̵̑̏́̐̑҉̟͈̩ï̢͉̺͕͉̈ͫͨͩ͘c̣̯̻͋͌̎̌́ͤ̔͢k̨̨͉̱̰͇͖̄̿̏̎͗̑ͪ̌̃ẽ̪̹͕̳͙̟͗ͬ̿͝d̰̹̘ͫ̎͂ͮ̒ͮ͡ ͈̟̟̳̙͓͖͗̓q̻̥͍̄͑͑̿͆u̲̻̪̰̽̋͌̉̂ͨ̆͒͞i̵̝̣̳ͮ̓̄́̂̌̍͠t͕͙̬̳̳͖ͥ̚̕e̛͍̻̩̦̞ͯ̊̃ͬ ̵̧̠̼̰̣͔̞̖͔́̐ͥͦ̽̓ͫ̓̌̀a̵͓̼͒͊͡ ̯͆ͯ̂̍͛̆̉ͧ̀͠d̡͖̆̇̄̒͜a̙̼͍̭̖͇̘̱̹͐͌̿̇̇͒̉͘͡y̡ͥͥ͗ͯ̍͏̴̖ ̴̴̙̄͛͑̄͐ͧ͒f̢̣̰̻̬̯̟͑̐̂̕͢o̴̴̱̟̲̪͎̠͍͌́̂r̝̮̹̼̲ͦ̂͂̊̐̒̓̚ ̸̵̯̝͕̣̱̓̃̓̉ͫ̔ͬs̪̗̗̭̻̻̟̮̤̍̒͢͟ṵ̵͎͚͓̦̱ͤ̉ͭm̡̥̜̹̬͈̥̹̻ͮͨ̃ͬ́̉̀̈ͨ͢m̫͕͓͈͉̬̘͂ͯ̉̌̎̓o̷͕͔ͫ͌͢n̪̗̳͓͕̥̠ͥͦ͛ͦͣ͘i̟͖͚̮̗̪ͩͦ̓͒̑̅̚̕͠ͅn̸̵̘̻̩̫̤͙̍ͨ̅͌g͖͎͈̰̞͋̃ͥͬ̕,͒ͧͧ҉͔͎̩͈̟͎ ̹̯̟̭̜͈̻ͮ͝ͅd̷̬̼͕͎̲̱̠ͭ̍̒̂̄i̞̋̇̒͡d̟̖͙͚̗́̆͋ͭ͛̓̓̕n̢̡̰̩͂̇ͮ͞ͅ'̵̛͈̜͉̭ͥ̈́͗͟t͍̤͒̉ ̗̭̟̼͔̙͑ͮ̅̄y̛͈̩̠ͮ̀͆͝o̵̲̳̳̠͈̓̏ͦͬ͐̈́u̝̹͈̳͕͕̥̝ͤ́ͥ̊̀͝ͅ .”

 


	2. Where Are You Now?

Hours later, after the last few calls of the night and a very short, somewhat emotional study session – why do Cassie's reincarnations have to be such good people – he's on the mortal plane again, not bothering to change out of the suit and instead just hiding the hat as he rushes – humans  _ rush _ , right? - into the hospital in an apparent panic, and approaches the intern at the desk. “Excuse me, did a boy check in last night? Blond hair, prosthetic eye?”

The kids eyes widened. “Yes. You're Toby's father?”

It's a good thing he's playing human, otherwise... He puts a hand over his mouth in mock worry. “Yes! Oh thank god I finally found him – where is he?”

“You'll have to sign in first, sir, but I'll call someone down to get you.”

Dipper sighs in relief, making a grand total of three scratches on the sign-in paper before changing it to a respectable scrawl of a signature. He hands in back to the intern – a lanky boy with pitch-black hair – and gets an escort in return.

* * *

A week passes.

Kevin, the intern at the front desk, gives an easy grin when he sees Tyrone pace through the waiting room. “Hey, Mr. Pines!”

“Hey Kevin. Any news?”

“None yet, sir.” Dipper likes Kevin. Always nice and polite. “Do you ever change out of that suit?”

Okay, forget that last statement. He pouts. “What? Something wrong with my suit?”

He laughs, handing over the sign-in sheet. “No way, it's classy. But you've worn the same suit for the last week or so – do you have an anti-dirt spell on it, and if you do, I need details.”

Tyrone laughs in return, doing a quick bit of scribbling on the sheet. “Nah, I just own a lot of suits. You should see my hat, though, I've got a levitation charm on it and it's pretty cool.”

Kevin gapes. “No way! You  _ have  _ to show me next time you're over here.”

Tyrone hums. “Maybe.”

“C'mon, _please_?”

“Alright, alright! Just let me say hi to Toby and I'll come back in a few hours.”

Kevin cheered. “I'll call Bianca down, okay?”

“I thought she was in Florida for the next few days?”

“Yeah... her trip got canceled. Someone nicked her purse the other day, she says she can't go anywhere without it.”

Tyrone hissed in sympathy while Dipper promised to look into it. “Ouch. She okay?”

“Yeah, no one mugged her or anything, just someone she couldn't keep up with.” He shrugs. “It happens, I guess. Not everyone is as awesome as we are.”

“Don't I know it.”

Bianca, a short nurse with dyed purple hair, came in a few minutes later, giving out a somewhat haggard smile to Tyrone. “Morning, Mister Pines.”

“Hey, Bee. Everything okay? I heard about...?”

She sighed. “Ugh, yeah, I'm fine, just angry now. Honestly, I'm just thankful I had my phone in my pocket – otherwise, I'd be screwed over ten different ways.”

“Sorry.”

She waved him off. “Eh, it's not your fault. I'm getting along alright.”

“How'd you get to work today?”

They started walking. “ _ Very _ carefully. The bastard took my driver's license along with everything else – I called the DMV, but my replacement won't be in the mail until tonight. So, for now I'm stuck driving like I'm too old to drive.”

“Need a ride home?”

“Thanks, but no. I'd rather not leave my car here.”

Tyrone shrugs, leading the way into an open elevator. “All well, worth a try. Tell me if you need anything, alright?”

“Oh, don't worry about me, I can-” The intercom buzzed, cutting her off.

_Bianca Sterling to the fifth floor, Bianca Sterling to the fifth floor._

Tyrone glanced at the elevator's floor count. “That's the coma ward.”

He personal microphone buzzed in her shirt pocket. “ _ Hey Bee! _ ” Kevin's voice sounded through. “ _ Is Mr. Pines still with you? _ ”

She pressed a button. “Yeah, we're heading up now. Why?”

“ _Hey Mr. Pines, guess who just woke up!_ ”

They shared a look, Dipper copying Bianca's expression as she melted into a relieved smile.

* * *

Of course.

The air of relief in the room quickly thickened into... something else. “What do you mean?”

Toby – stubborn, confused, bleeding heart Toby – propped up his arm cast on one leg. “Sorry, sir, but I don't think I know you...”

Of course. Of course he would have amnesia. Dipper, once again, wants to shove his head through a wall. Why.  _ Why _ . Why didn't he force the deal while he had the chance. Why didn't he look into the coma's effects in the  _ week _ that he had to figure it out? Why did he just  _ stop being careful _ ?

Bianca's face came into view, too concerned – that wouldn't do, Dipper actually liked most of the people here. “Mister Pines? Tyrone? It'll be okay...”

He let out a breath, thanking his fleeting luck that he hadn't dropped his disguise - fuck, human, right – and looked to the doctor that had come when Toby woke. “How long does amnesia usually last? It can't be forever, can it?”

The doctor – Elliot Berhn – was very good at hiding their anxious energy, but no amount of acting could mask the fact that their aura was a very worrying color. “There's a good chance his memory will return, but it... it could take some time. We don't know how long.”

Toby was glancing curiously at the three. “Is there something wrong with me?”

_ Oh my god this kid why _ .

Bianca beat Dipper to the punch. “You were driving home and got in an accident – you're in the coma ward of Will Hospital, and you've been here about a week.”

“A week exactly.” Dipper – Tyrone – interjected, earning a somewhat pitying look from the two employees. He ignored them, stepping forward, holding out a hand and bracing himself. “Hey Toby, my name is Tyrone Pines.” Dear god he had better get some good karma for this. “I'm your father.”

_ Took you long enough! _ His inner Mable crooned.

_ You're not helping! _ He yelled back.

Meanwhile, Toby... his reaction is To Be Determined. Dipper knows that look – knows what usually happens when this much distressing info is dumped on the kid – and knows that every person here needs to vacate the premises, like,  _ now _ .

He caught Bianca's eye. Thankfully, she caught on and waved Elliot out the door just as the first tear leaked out.

Decision time: Does he let Toby live a normal life for as long as it lasts, or dump even more info on him?

… Even Alcor isn't that cruel. And Toby is still so trusting, it must be a default personality trait, because he doesn't even tug away when Tyrone comes over and starts massaging circles into his back as he continues to process just what happened.

Around five minutes later, tears still flowing strong, he gathers up the willpower to look up at Dipper. “... Y-you're my D-dad?”

_ Dear god just fucking murder me.  _ “Yes.”  _ Distraction. Distraction. You do not want this discussion _ . “Do you remember how old you are?”

“I-I'm... eighteen?”

Tyrone nods. “You turn nineteen in about two months. Do you remember... what Hospital you're in?” He shook his head, and  _ Tyrone _ (there's a difference) smiled jokingly. “Aw, come on, the nurse just told you! You're in Will Hospital.”

Toby smiled on instinct. “Rig-ht.”

“What's my name?”

“Tyrone... Pine?”

“Pines.” He corrected, still smiling while Dipper was dying inside.

“Pines.” Toby repeated. “And I'm Toby Pines?”

_ Oh god I'm not ready for this. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Come Home Soon

It's the second time Toby flinched at the sight of him.

Tyrone raised an eyebrow, setting a mug of hot chocolate carefully in front of the boy. “Something wrong?” He frowned at the cast on the kid's leg for the fifth time that day. “Need to lay down?”

“No, it's nothing dad...” Dipper was getting better with the new title, but it still took a little effort not to at least flinch whenever Toby said it. “Just... weird dreams, is all.”

“Weird dreams?” Tyrone took the seat across from him. “What kind of weird?”

Toby cast a frightened glance at him, intent on sharing what exactly had transpired during the night, before the look collapsed and he went back to 'you-don't-need-my-problems' mode. “They're just weird, is all. I can handle it.”

The last time Dipper heard anything that resembled the phrase 'I can handle it' was while Toby was in that coma. Tyrone sighed. “Toby...” Dipper struggled with the word 'son' for a moment before giving up on the gesture. “... Look, I know you think that your problems will cause me problems – and sometimes they will, I know -” Floors have suddenly become very interesting to his housemate. “But if you need help and don't ask anyone... well, then problems get bigger.”

Good demon. Best fake-parent.

“Well...” _Holy shit it worked_? “I just- don't know where they're coming from – there are these things that I keep seeing, like alleys-” Oh. “And- and dark places that smell like- like...” Oh no. “And then there's you, but it's not you, it's you with claws and wings and teeth and fire...” Toby looked over to Tyrone, whose face was being carefully kept blank. “Why would I dream of that?”

It's only been a few days out of the hospital. Dipper was doing  _ so well _ !

But now...

Tyrone took a big gulp of whatever this was – oh wait, jasmine tea, yeah, okay – and set his mug neatly to the side. “How about... we start with the alley. How many time have you seen it?”

Toby shook his head, clearly distressed. “A few, I guess.”

“Is it always the same?”

“Sometimes. It changes, almost like I'm traveling.”

“But sometimes it's the same.” Toby hummed, taking another sip of tea. “Do you know where that one alley is, or is it just another alley?”

“It's...”His brow furrowed. “I get the feeling it's near here, but I'm not really sure...”

“What are you doing in the alley?”

“Just sitting, like in a box.”

“Does anyone come talk to you?”

After a moment of consideration, Toby shook his head.

* * *

Dippers eye twitched.

When he absentmindedly handed over the multicolored sharpies that they (somehow?) had stashed away in 'Tyrones office', he wasn't really expecting the kid to actually do anything with them. Sure, make a few marks on the walls, maybe draw a bit on one of his old sketch pads – that is, if he managed to get passed his old drawings yet (last Dipper checked, he was on book number three and still going strong) – before putting them away somewhere and going to do something else. That's what kids do, right?

Not... this.

He should have known that cast would be trouble.

Tyrone pushed for a small smile. “What are you doing?”

Toby looked up from his work, taking the opportunity to move his leg from where it had been trapped for who knows how long, and grinned back to him. “Drawing.”

“On your cast?”

“Well, yeah. It's boring.”

Well, no one can really argue that. “Fair enough. What'd you draw?”

As if he didn't know. He almost lost his disguise at the sight of it.

Toby shrugged, hefting up his leg again and filling another triangle with brick-like layers of yellow. “I think they're pyramids? I keep almost putting eyes on them though, so maybe not.”

“Almost?”

Toby made a face. “I don't like the eyes – they're really creepy.”

Thank goodness for that.

* * *

“Dad!”

Dipper jumped out of the mindscape, legs flinching hard enough to thump against his work desk as he regained 'consciousness'. He almost got out a swear in demon-speak before cutting himself off in English. “Fuck- yeah?”

Toby was silent.

Tyrone cast a glance toward the door.  _ Should I be worried, or... _ ?

“I – I need help!”

_ That's a yes _ . Tyrone bolted out of his seat when he heard the sheer amount of panic in Tobys voice, keeping footsteps loud as he tried  _ so very hard _ not to just blip into the room – no, humans run, he remembers this. Humans run and do not just appear in a room.

“ _You sure it's him_?”

Tyrone's footsteps faltered for a split second before resuming.  _ Oh great, not again _ .

“ _Positive. He's been hovering around this house for years now, it's gotta have something to do with the kid_.”

“Toby?”

The voices paused. “ _ Say 'I'm here' _ .”

“I'm here!”

“What's wrong? Are you hurt?” Tyrone shouted up the staircase.

“ _You took a glass up here and cut yourself when you dropped it_.”

“I – I cut myself on some glass!”

“I'll be right there!”

_ Humans don't kill on a regular basis _ . Tyrones' eyes morphed in anger, darting around, assessing the placement of the five men in the room with his son.  _ Humans arrest criminals instead of killing them. _ The casual wear he had been wearing burst into flames, automatically replaced by his standard, if not favorite, suit and tailed coat.  _ Humans are not demonic. _

Something inside him  _ giggled _ with anger.  _ Ah, well, humans are boring _ .

With that thought in mind, Dipper phased right through the ceiling and into the room.

He was met with only two shocked gasps – one from a hooded figure (must be a new recruit), and the second from (Dipper almost flinched despite himself) Toby, of course. Alcor ignored it, eyes only for the apparent leader.

The man with the knife at his sons throat.

He grinned, almost giddy when he realized that he had his sets of sharp teeth back in his smile, and walked – walked, not floated – over to the man.

“I understand you have a problem with me?”

“Dad?”

His eyes flicked over to a wordlessly terrified Toby, who flinched when he was met with Dippers black and gold irises. “Not now son, I'll take care of this.”

“ _Son_?” The man laughed, digging the knife just a bit deeper. “This kid? _Demon spawn_?”

Dipper ignored him. “Look at me.” The kid obliged, still just as trusting as the last time this had happened. “Toby, I need you to close your eyes and  _ keep _ them closed.”

“Tough luck trying to do much, _Alcor_.” Man with the Knife motioned to the ground he was standing on with an elbow. “You're trapped – last SS level demon in that circle couldn't get out for _two days_.”

“Toby, do as I say. I'll explain later, alright?”

Toby gave one last wide eyed stare at what he thought was his father, took a breath through his mouth, and closed his eyes.

There was a sickening  _ snap _ that echoed through the room and adjacent hallway as Knife Man – Daniel, Alcor noted with indifference – had his wrist turned inside-out.

The knife was dropped in horror, and Toby flinched again from the combination of sensory input.

“You͢ ͜se͞e,͡”Alcor held out a hand, grasping Toby's shoulder and pulling him away from the carnage. “This house and the people living here have been u͠n͟dèr ͡m͠y proteçti̢o̧ņ since it was first purchased. It cost 178,700 American dollars, Has three bedrooms, three bathrooms, a large kitchen complete with island, and the best view in the neighborhood.” With Toby out of harms way, there was nothing for the man to hide behind. “And you just threatened the life of i͠t̴'s͏ o̧n͞l҉y t͞r̴u͢e͢ i̕nha͏b͠i͟tan̶t̢.”

To his credit, Daniel didn't spout a single spiel about how the universe owed him something or how Alcor could obviously understand his intentions.

No, Daniel only hissed in shock and pain, took one look at the blue flames that seemed to consume the demon in front of him, and said: “Fuck.”

Alcor laughed.

* * *

Toby sighed, sitting at the dinner table and surrounded by cleaning supplies. His dad – Tyrone, if that's even his name – had been flitting around who knows where trying to tie up all the loose end the... the guys from earlier had. Leaving him with a creepily spotless attic and clothing still spattered with human blood.

A hand automatically goes to his throat at the reminder.

He nearly died today.

He didn't – even if Tyrone  _ wasn't _ his dad, he was there, he protected him... Tyrone, or Alcor, didn't let Toby keep the shallow cut on his throat, but he still felt the memory of it. It had been there, he was sure. It had been real.

It had been like one of his nightmares.

Those gold irises looked so familiar, so  _ right _ on his father's face that it shocked him.

A breath.

He nearly died today.

He nearly died, and was saved by... well, by a demon.

Toby laughed, the hand that had been caressing his unmarred throat going up to cover his eyes. “I – I almost –  _ died _ – I almost died – oh my goodness – almost –  _ almost _ -”

The air in the room went still, and Toby relaxed on instinct.

His dad – whoever he was – said nothing at the sight of the supplies littering the table, nor the nearly hysterical teenager that sagged in the chair just a few feet away. Instead, Toby heard him sigh, footsteps unnecessarily clear –  _ he doesn't need to walk for my sake I know how uncomfortable that is _ – as he made his way to the pantry. The door creaked as it opened, boxes shook and scraped against their neighbors, and eventually calmed as Tyrone stepped away.

Toby didn't bother moving his hand when the kettle started.

He only moved when he smelled the thick, warm scent of Jasmine tea slowly fill the room.

His dad was leaning against the counter, worried,  _ normal _ eyes tracking whatever movement he made. Toby nearly sighed again.

“Don't bother, you forgot to scrub out the blood. Let it go.”

Tyrone – Alcor – stiffened. “Are you sure?” Toby nodded, and the guise immediately melted into a, somehow, more familiar, more demonic complexion.

Toby laughed despite himself. “How long?”

Alcor's golden eyes flicked to the floor and stayed there. “Since you woke up.”

“So I knew before?”

Alcor stood silent against the question.

Another sigh escaped. “You don't have to keep pretending, you know.” Alcor sent a slightly startled expression his way, to which he shrugged. “Call it instinct. Go on.”

The demons' feet left the ground, and he floated forward, making room for – oh my goodness –  _ wings _ . Bat wings, on his lower back, they looked so soft and leathery and  _ cool _ . His father – no, Alcor, right – still looked worried though, fingers fidgeting with a bow tie that hadn't been there before the... incident.

“You've been hiding this for... two months, now?”

“Well,” He straightened. “I thought, maybe a fresh start without demonic influence would stem- ...” Catching sight of Toby's confused look, he paused, and, eventually, deflated. “... I don't know, kid... I thought you might be better off. God, I sound like Stan, what's wrong with me?” He muttered, scritching at the back of his neck.

“So all the dreams... they were real?”

“... Most of them.”

“Which ones were fake?”

“The nice ones.”

Toby let out a breath. “I was really living on the street?”

“Until I got to you.”

“Right, and I'm... some... some demon, right?” Alcor blinked. “That's right, isn't it? You came and found me because I was the demon that went against... M, M, something with an M...”

“Mizar.”

“Mizar, but... you didn't kill me. Because... because I was just a kid, so you just kept an eye on me instead...”

“Bought a house, payed mortgage, put food on the table, even got a human identity so I could pass as... legal guardian, for when you needed checkups.”

“That's where 'Tyrone' came from...” Toby breathed.

“You got some of the best grades in school, graduated, and then...”

“And then the crash happened.”

Alcor sighed, remembering the two mugs of tea already poured at his side and gesturing one over to the kid. “You didn't want me to fix you up. I didn't check to see what would happen.” Toby held the cup close, feeling the warmth seep into his hands. “You know what happened after that.”

“Yeah.” Toby smiled down at the pale liquid, blood flakes still drying between his nails, and looked up to meet Alcors' eyes. “Thank you.”

“Didn't do it for you, brat.” He took a sip, then made a face when he saw Toby's expression. “Don't look at me like that, I didn't! It was the perfect opportunity to limit your contact with demonic influences, kid I w̧͏i̛l̛͠l̨ take that mug away if you keep the face, I swear!”

Toby took a seat, taking a sip and eying the multitude of cleaning supplies that he would no doubt have to use on his shirt before the end of the night. All well.

At least everything was back to normal.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Soo I'll be posting this one chapter a day. Tell me if you like it!


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